Free Reindeer Games 2 - Toys for Good Girls by Mykles Jet Page B

face. “You look horrible .”
    Leaning heavily against the edge of the door, Bok knocked his forehead against it. “Please.
    Just go.”
    “No. Let me in right now, or I will go to your mother. Or Gus.” Pressing his lips together, Bok considered calling Lon’s bluff. Gus scared Lon something awful. But that had been before Wod. Now that he was dating a reindeer, his feelings toward Mrs. Claus had probably mellowed. He still had the threat to go to Bok’s mom too. “Fine.” Bok stepped back, glancing at the road behind Lon to make sure no one was watching. No one was.
    No one on his block gave him too much thought. Most of them were in housekeeping and maintenance and weren’t in their homes during the day anyway. “Come in. Quick!” Surprised, Lon scurried inside. “What’s the matter with you anyway? What are you…?” He stopped just inside Bok’s hallway, surveying the mess that was the living room. “What is going on ?”
    Sullen, Bok brushed past him back into his personal chaos. His desk was filled with papers and keyboards, with his computer from work adding to the clutter. He’d moved all the regular furniture—the sofa, coffee table, and two chairs—to the edges of the room to make room for the weight bench, various free weights, and cross-trainer treadmill machine. “I’ve been working out.”
    “You’ve been what now?”
    Bok heaved an irritated sigh as he mounted the treadmill. “Working out.” He punched buttons to get the treads to start again. “You know, getting in shape.” Lon gaped.
    “What?”
    “You?”
    “Yeah, me.” Sweat started up almost immediately, mostly because he had the heat up higher than usual to create something of a sweatbox. “Hand me that towel.” He pointed at the one he’d left draped over his chair.
    Lon picked up the towel and brought it to him. “B-bu-but you hate exercising.”
    “Yeah.” Bok took the towel and swiped at his forehead. He’d tried a headband, but it had irritated his head. “Still do.”
    Aghast, Lon wandered farther into the room. His expressive gaze took in the pull-up bar attached to the door to the bedroom and the old stationary bike that sat facing the little kitchenette. He stopped by the dining table and picked up one of many cans of protein drinks.
    “How did you…?”
    “It’s all secondhand. Well within my budget.”
    “And no one knew?”
    Bok snorted, his breathing already labored. “No one pays attention to stuff like that unless it’s toys for the warehouse.”
    Lon’s fingers moved as he counted the boxes of protein drinks. There were six. “I don’t understand.”
    “What’s not to understand?” Bok checked the timer in front of him. Fifteen blasted more minutes before he could stop to cool down so he could get some acquisitions work done. Only way people would leave him alone was if he kept up with his daily quota.
    Everyone except his best friend, of course. He hadn’t been sure how to handle Lon through this, so he’d avoided telling him. Now that the time had come, he was both relieved and a little miffed it had taken Lon five days to track him down. Life with a reindeer must be good. With any luck, I’ll find that out for myself. He put his head down and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. No way he could go faster. He was completely worn-out. How did people do this all the time? He couldn’t fathom the physical activity it took to be a reindeer.
    Lon stepped to the side of the treadmill, looking Bok up and down and clearly finding something to be dismayed about. Bok stamped down irritation. He knew he didn’t look good in his sweats yet, knew he was covered in sweat and smelled something awful, but he had to go through this to lose weight. He had to do this if he’d ever be worthy.
    “Why are you doing this?”
    “I figured”—he could barely breathe—“it was about time”— huff, huff —“I finally took an interest in my health.”
    Lon scowled. Elves